Archive for October 2012

Bob: Increasingly, these opening scenes are my favourite parts of the episodes… the conversations between our three heroes are always fabulously funny and well-observed.

Compo: We used to roll Eileen Watkins down this hill.
Foggy: What did she look like?
Clegg: Very dusty, and covered in bits of grass.

Cracking stuff, as is the traditional childhood reminiscing, complete with typically florid names and descriptions for unseen characters. Eileen Watkins, it transpires, was in love with Chunky Rumbelow, and was actually a dead ringer for the late King Farouk of Egypt. Complete with twirly moustache, do we assume?

Eileen Watkins

Andrew: It’s quite stylishly directed as well, with each character literally as well as figuratively having their own perspective; Clegg standing, Foggy sitting, and Compo lying. It just seems a little more carefully composed than recent episodes. Maybe the director had a little bit of extra time.

Bob: Should I be surprised that Sid and Ivy have a microwave oven in 1979? I always think of them as a quintessentially 1980s invention, and am taken aback that someone as – ahem – traditionally-minded as Ivy would have one anywhere near her precious kitchen! I’m pretty damn sure I’d never even HEARD of a microwave in 1979. It were all pressure cookers and deep-fat fryers when I were a lad.

Andrew: It’s never been mentioned before, but if they don’t know how to use it then this might explain why our trio are so often unimpressed by their grub.

The scene in the café is great though, with a rare chance to see the dynamic between Ivy/Sid and Nora/Wally. There’s still something quite antagonistic between Nora and Ivy here, but I love how quickly they bond in their natural habitat – the kitchen. I love how, even on her day out, Nora isn’t content until she resumes domestic duties.

And just what is the expression of a man who knows what he’s doing with a microwave?

Bob: This is, of course, Wally’s idea of taking Nora out for a meal, the old smoothie. ‘Your pastry’s not light enough,’ she snaps, stony-faced, reducing Ivy to tears! At which point Nora softens too, and offers gentle advice. It’s interesting how we’ve seen the relationship between these two women develop over the years, am I right in thinking that they barely seem to know each other in the early series? Here, there’s clearly at least a grudging respect between, and then – in later years – they become firmer friends.

Andrew: Yes, I think the first sign we saw of a developing relationship was during the seaside episodes. This is a pleasant continuation.

Sid and Ivy share a joke…

Bob: It’s interesting to see friction between Sid and Wally as well, when it comes to repairing the microwave! Women are competitive about baking, men are competitive about fixing things. Them’s the rules in Summer Wine world.

Andrew: People whose sauce bottle tops looked like they had ‘bunches of raisins on ‘em’ were the bane of my childhood existence. I loved and still love red sauce (I’d even fill my Yorkshire puddings up with the stuff), but I equally hated the muck that would build up. Just the thought of one dropping off into my food… ugh. May Earnshaw bless the inventor of the squeezy plastic bottle!

Odd to see a bit of casual racism directed towards the Japanese, too… although there’s not a hateful bone in the script’s body, and I like this line from Wally…

Wally: They do say the Japanese are very gifted in the trickier aspects of the marriage bed.

Bob: And so, after some nice character work, we get to the crux of what is clearly shaping up to be a stunt episode… Compo wants to go hang-gliding. And Wally volunteers to build the craft in question. Should I be ashamed of saying that I find Compo a bit annoying in this episode? I prefer his darker-edged persona of the early series, when he was almost a drop-out from normal society. Here, he’s essentially a child in an old man’s body, pulling faces and putting on comedy voices.

Although, again, there’s some lovely dialogue floating around. ‘He’s got a throat like a flush lavatory’ comments Foggy, deliciously, as Compo throws another pint down his neck. Compo, meanwhile, points out that he learnt his boozing skills from Slack Edna, a woman he accompanied on bat-hunting expeditions! Another one for the database, Drew…

Anywhere know where this actually IS? We need to visit it!

Andrew: Done and done.

Bob: And so we finish with a tree-climbing competition between Foggy and Compo, and – hooray! – a credit for Stuart Fell, the former Parachute Regiment stuntman beloved of Doctor Who fans. It’s a rare CV that includes spells doubling for both Bill Owen and Katy Manning, but Stuart’s pulled it off with aplomb! Is he also the only performer to have appeared in both Last of the Summer Wine and The Empire Strikes Back? Or do we have a Michael Sheard guest appearance to look forward to?

Andrew: That sounds like a challenge to me. So I’ve done the leg-work and discovered that stuntman Peter Diamond, a Snowtrooper Guard and Stunt Arranger for Empire played the role of ‘Motorist’ in the 1990 episode Barry’s Christmas. Now, I am the master.

Bob: He’s the Tusken Raider who attacks Luke Skywalker in the first Star Wars film, too! Anyway… an enjoyable enough episode with some nice moments, but I have a curious feeling we’re being set up for another sequel.

Andrew: That’s just ‘cos you’ve seen the back of the box. Based solely upon viewing this episode, I would never have suspected another instalment was coming.

We get a slapstick-ridden cameo from David Ryall… here stranded beneath a car, but in 2012 appearing regularly as the Grandad in Outnumbered! Took me a while to recognize him as a forty-year-old rather than a bloke in his mid-seventies. Tempus fugit Robert, tempus fugit. Read more

I should point out how well structured this episode has been, as well. We began with the disembodied voices of an off-screen trio and we reach our climax with the disembodied voices of Sid and Wally, who are reluctant to reveal their cowpoke attire. Very neat. Read more

Bob: Well, who’d have thought it? Our first Summer Winos expedition, and it all started because we spotted that, in one scene of Series 5 Episode 1, Full Steam Behind, the number of the steam train boarded by Compo, Clegg and Foggy was clearly visible on camera… KWVR L89. Literally ten seconds of exhaustive research later, we discovered that said engine was still on display at Oxenhope station on the Keighley Worth Valley Railway line – a heritage branch line in West Yorkshire dedicated to re-creating the golden age of steam. We had to go in search of it, surely?

Andrew: I didn’t need much convincing to join Bob on this jaunt. Even without the Summer Wine connection, I love steam railways. I think that, somewhere down the line, this is in my blood. My Grandad hauled coal up from the ground for just this kind of use. I’m sure he was bloody sick of the sight and smell of coal and steam after working his entire life down the pit, but the sensation of being enveloped in the cloud created by a working steam engine does something to me. It turns me back into a little five-year-old with his Thomas the Tank Engine flag and plastic whistle…. oh, hang on, that was only a few months ago.

Bob: I can’t claim any kind of industrial ancestry (I come from a long, proud line of shirkers) but absolutely – there’s something about steam railways that’s just inherently romantic. A beautiful way to travel from a far more leisurely age.

Andrew: Well, the day didn’t get off to the best of starts after I managed to jump on the wrong train to meet Bob, delaying my arrival by half an hour and several miles. Fortunately, my co-conspirator drives and was able to rescue me from the clutches of Billingham railway station. Then the journey could really begin.

Bob: You’re a loveable buffoon. Yes, readers, I bundled him into the passenger seat of my car and we set off for West Yorkshire…

Andrew: Our seventy-five mile journey remained relatively uneventful until we reached Harrogate. Leaving the town, Bob shouted two words that seemed to make time itself stand still…

Bob: ELECTRIC AVENUE! And here we see Mr Drew Smith having successfully ‘rocked down’ to said thoroughfare, and now – clearly – preparing to ‘take it higher’…

Andrew: Finally, we reached Keighley and, after searching for a parking space, bought our ticket for a return trip to Oxenhope. Keighley Station itself is a beautiful place where past meets present; one can either hop onto the heritage line or take a thirty second wander to the mainline station. I was even impressed by the retro toilets at the two stations we visited. I don’t think I’ve ever had a sanctioned piddle in an uncovered space before.

Bob: I’ve rarely seen a man emerge from a public urinal looking so pleased with himself. But I can confirm that both KWVR stations were home to a selection of beautiful vintage thunderboxes. We’d barely washed our hands when our train puffed into Keighley Station amidst a gorgeous, wafting cloud of steam, and we piled excitedly into the nearest carriage. A gentle, thirty-minute ride to Oxenhope awaited us, in beautiful autumnal weather. Russet-coloured leaves and syrupy, golden sunshine abounded as we chuffed slowly through the restored splendour of Ingrow West, Damems, Haworth and Oakworth. I can’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed! It seemed like we’d actually entered into an episode of Last of the Summer Wine ourselves.

Andrew: And there was a pub on the train. A PUB ON THE TRAIN!

Bob: Quiet, little scruffy person. And get your wellies off the windowpane.

Andrew: Once we reached Oxenhope, we expected to go on a quest to locate our screen-used engine. Knowing that it was no longer in running order, we thought that we might perhaps find it covered in moss or inside a boarded up cave round the back. Amazingly, however, we found it within two seconds of walking into the engine shed. There she was in all her glory, and although she had been given a new coat of paint and a brand spanking new number, she was still recognisably the vehicle used all the way back in 1979.

Bob: Absolutely! Built in 1929, so it’s rather staggering to realise that she was already fifty years old when she appeared in Full Steam Behind. She’s still in beautiful condition.

Andrew: The one thing I wasn’t expecting was to feel a bit emotional when getting up close and personal with the engine. I know I’ve gone on record as saying that Full Steam Behind leaves me a little underwhelmed, but there was just something about the unchanged nature of the cab, some thirty-odd years after it was used in the series. Brian Wilde and Bill Owen are no longer with us and Last of the Summer Wine has retired from our screens, but this small cabin, where our heroes once stood, lives on. Preserved through the ages, all thanks to the dedication of a legion of volunteers. I desperately wanted to climb inside, but there was a little laminated sign that put me in my place.

Bob: There was nobody else at all in the exhibition shed at one point, and we wrestled with our consciences for about a minute, didn’t we? I mean, really… what harm could it possibly do if we clambered into the drivers cabin and pulled a few levers? Then we had visions of the train slowly chuffing through the shed wall and onto the branch line, with the pair of us trapped behind the wheel and hollering desperately for help. Good idea for a sitcom episode, that…

Andrew: On returning to the car, we then thought we’d try to locate the bridge from which Compo is unceremoniously dangled in this episode. Unfortunately, we kept losing the railway line while trying to navigate by the A-Z. Some say that two heads are better than one. They clearly haven’t ridden in a car with you and me.

We did find a bridge to settle on in the end, but – on reflection – it really doesn’t look like the right one when compared side by side with the original episode. What do you think? Here’s the Summer Wine screengrab…

Here’s the one we located by car…

And here’s one that we only saw while passing underneath it on the train…

Any thoughts?

Bob: I think we ballsed it up. But at least it gives us an excuse to go back and try again!

Andrew: Looking at it with hindsight, the bridge with the hut beside it is probably the one we wanted. Damn you, Confusingly Erected Inanimate Red Hut!

We managed to miss some key locations, but you know what? I don’t really mind. We got to see the actual engine our trio abducted and we rode the line they completely failed to buy a ticket for. A definitely got a feel for the place, if not a great handle on the locations used. Next time, however, we’re taking a map and some screenshots!

We interrupt your regular service to bring you this public service announcement. I’ve actually been meaning to write something about Macular Degeneration for a while now, but never seemed to be able to find the right way of framing my thoughts for this blog. Recently, however, I stumbled across this video presented by Peter Sallis that does a better job of informing people about the condition that I could. This was produced in 2009, but the message still stands and the contact information it gives still appears to be correct. I’d check with this link first.

Bob: Good grief, it’s a sequel! I hadn’t looked too closely at the episode titles, so I really wasn’t expecting that, and really… the previous episode had nothing about it that suggested a second part was essential to conclude the story. I just assumed Foggy’s plan to erect the flag had come to nothing, like pretty much all of his ideas so far. Here’s hoping things pick up in this episode. I’m desperately in need of an Empire Strikes Back!

Andrew: Maybe the BBC ordered one more episode than Roy Clarke was expecting? That might explain why The Flag and Its Snag felt a bit padded.

Bob: And crikey, we start with an incest joke. ‘Billy Butterwick had a cousin on the railway once,’ giggles Compo. ‘She said she wouldn’t tell her mum, but she did’. Hear that scribbling? That’s Mary Whitehouse taking notes.

Nice to see Stan Richards in this episode, bumbling around the Railway Parcels Office when Foggy goes to collect his flag. Later to become hugely famous as Seth Armstrong in Emmerdale Farm, although he only made his Emmerdale debut in 1978, so probably hadn’t quite achieved national treasure status when this aired!

Seth Armstrong is watching you…

Andrew: He’s gently sinister here. I bet his house is full of unclaimed goods from the Sorting Office. I love Compo’s method of breaking into Foggy’s parcel. There’s something primitively satisfying about opening a package without having to turn to a cutting implement. Don’t laugh, I’m afforded very few opportunities to feel manly.

Bob: There’s a nice bit of physical comedy here as well, with Compo’s trousers being pulled asunder by the snagged string on Foggy’s parcel. I laughed out loud. Trousers ARE funny.

Andrew: And it’s executed much more effectively than last week’s messing about with donkeys and dry stone walls. Perhaps that’s the luxury of sitcom rehearsal time at work.

Our trio venture back to base in order to solve Compo’s predicament, said base being the café, of course. This just a sign of my unobservant nature, but this is the first time I’ve noticed that Sid and Ivy have their prices written up on a chalk board behind the counter. Egg and Chips for 55p and a cup of tea for just 5p – lovely.

Bob: There’s an unexpected but rather lovely bit of character development in this episode… Wally Batty is a member of the Old and Ancient Order of Bullocks! It’s obviously Roy Clarke’s gentle spoof on Freemasonry, although there’s a distinctly smalltown feel to all of this… they meet in the café, and Wally – we learn – has become a Bullock to advance his standing in racing pigeon circles. And, you have to assume, to get out of the house.

Something we rarely see in Summer Wine here as well… proper, hammering, filthy torrential rain. Foggy even has a brolly! There’s a real ‘end of summer’ feel to this episode, and already I like it much more than the previous installment.

Andrew: Certain sitcoms seem to have been blessed when it comes to location shooting. Dad’s Army is another example of a series where nary a drop of rain is glimpsed. Red Dwarf, on the other hand, always seems to have the worst of weather for their trips outside of the studio.

So our trio head off to find ‘The Commodore’. and we’re treated to two 1970s staples; a scantily-clad, shrieking woman and some ghastly, brown, flower-patterned curtains. The way in which Clarke has the Commodore bastardize Kenneth Grahame is also very cheeky.

Bob: Alright, can I introduce an element of actor geekery here?

Andrew: Can I stop you?

Robert Lang, up to no good below decks

Bob: Robert Lang, who plays the ex-sea cadets Commodore ‘entertaining’ a young lady on his houseboat, was something of a theatrical powerhouse. He was talent-spotted by Laurence Olivier in the early 1960s, who’d seen him playing Theseus in the RSC’s production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Olivier tapped him up and encouraged him to jump ship to his newly-formed National Theatre Company! The famous critic Caryl Brahms once described him as having ‘quiet grandeur, cogency and gravity’, all essential qualities for a guest role in Last of the Summer Wine.

And his young lady is a tiny role for Maggie Ollerenshaw, one of my favourite actresses. And clearly one of Roy Clarke’s too, as she’s also Wavy Mavis in Open All Hours, and went on to play Clegg’s mother in First of the Summer Wine! I love her, she’s got brilliant comic timing.

Andrew: I knew that I recognized that voice from somewhere!

Bob: The final stages of the episode are quite odd, in that our heroes are actually separated in a way that I don’t think has really happened before. Foggy steams ahead on his flag quest, while Clegg and Compo stay behind.

Andrew: Well, it is raining.

Bob: I like Compo’s remark about Wally’s pigeon – ‘That’d go well wi’ a few tatties’, which reminds me SO much of the stuff my Dad would say around this time… I had a pet rabbit, which he would (JOKINGLY!!!) remark would make for a cracking pie with a few carrots and peas. The legacy of a wartime childhood, I guess.

Andrew: My dad wasn’t so lucky. He was unknowingly fed his rabbit after my grandad’s weekly pay was delayed. Perhaps that’s why I was only ever allowed a hamster. Who wants to eat a hamster?

Wally really reminds me of one of my uncles here. I think it’s his pride in his racing pigeon photos. With my uncle, it was whippets, but it’s still very familiar. And I mean this as a compliment should you ever read this, Lar! (It’s actually my Auntie Sue who might knack me should she believe I’m comparing her to Nora by proxy).

Bob: And so – amazingly – Foggy’s plan comes to fruition! He DOES raise his flag on the top of the hillside! Until it falls over, obviously. But is this the first of Foggy’s harebrained schemes that’s actually reached a successful conclusion? It’s a watershed episode!

Foggy’s flag goes up!

Andrew: Dare we attempt to restage his attempt on our next trip to Holmfirth? It’ll have to be on a smaller scale, of course, but the idea of a Brian Wilde memorial flagpole strikes me a rather beautiful thing.

Bob: I enjoyed that, anyway. A huge improvement on the previous instalment with some great guest appearances and funny moments.

Andrew: And a fantastic punchline. All in all, I think that just about redeemed the last episode. Still a very strange two-parter, though.

The Database is a partial listing of the many unseen characters mentioned in passing throughout Last of the Summer Wine‘s history. Due to the proliferation of nicknames, characters are listed alphabetically by their first name, be that real or imagined. Read more